


By the Will of His Prince

by ThisIsTheDungeonThatNeverEnds



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Time, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Intercrural Sex, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Outdoor Sex, honor bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 19:54:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14119614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisIsTheDungeonThatNeverEnds/pseuds/ThisIsTheDungeonThatNeverEnds
Summary: There was nowhere for him to go, not that he would want to, as Regis closed the distance between them until their faces were barely an inch apart.  Though Clarus was slightly taller than Regis and much more muscular, Clarus felt Regis’ presence as something immense and overpowering.Kings Tale Era RegClar for FFXV Kink Week day 1 Authority Kink, yes I know I'm late





	By the Will of His Prince

There was something different in the cool night air. Clarus felt it deep in his chest; a heavy fluttering feeling that was unnerving yet somehow not unpleasant. It wasn’t until Cid and Wes retired to the tent for the evening and he was left alone with Regis by the dying campfire that Clarus began to understand exactly what was different. It was something in the Princes posture, in the way he stole lingering gazes at Clarus. Sometimes the smoke from that still drifted off the embers twisted between them and obscured Clarus’ view of Regis, but he did not have to see to _feel_ the intensity of those gray-green eyes.

“Nice night tonight,” Clarus said to break the silence. His voice did nothing to still the vibrating air.

“It is,” Regis agreed with a smile. “Perfect weather for a nighttime stroll.” Regis stood from his folding camp chair, but Clarus quickly caught him by the wrist.

“I don’t think so. There’s deamons outside the haven, you know that.”

“We’ll be fine, Clarus. Come on, lets take a walk.”

“Regis, no,” Clarus protested even as he stood and allowed himself to be lead away hand in hand with Regis.

What was wrong with him tonight, Clarus wondered. He could usually stand toe to toe with the stubbornness of the young and adventurous crown prince and at least make a concerted effort to talk him down from any reckless notions, but tonight Clarus felt like Regis could ask him to jump into the eternal flames of Mt. Ravatogh with him and he would follow. He was to busy imagining how majestic his prince would look wreathed in smoke with the glow of the raging flames surrounding him and casting a blinding orange light onto his pale skin to notice how quickly Regis had lead him down the steep path from the haven to the base of the small plateau. The glow of the runes barely reached them here; Clarus could barely make out Regis’s features from a foot a way.

“We shouldn’t go far,” Clarus warned. “The glow here might be just enough to keep most deamons away, but I won’t risk your safety much farther.”

“We won’t go farther than this.” There it was again: that unrecognizable _something_ that Clarus had been feeling all night, now in the Princes voice. “You are my Shield after all.” The was Regis was smiling was both loving and mischievous, and it made Clarus think things that he knew he should not think about Regis. Regis was _beautiful_ , something Clarus had always known. But it was not until setting out on this journey that he had truly begun to _notice_. Notice the graceful way his body flowed so fluidly when he wielded a sword. Notice the way his eyes seemed more green in the sunlight, or more gray when he was in a serious mood. Notice how he smiled with his entire face when he found a new source for a rush of adrenaline that he so craved… the way he was smiling now.

“Yes,” Clarus said and nodded. He was surprised by the breathlessness of his own voice. “I am your Shield.”

Still holding tightly to Clarus’ hand, Regis stepped closer to Clarus, and it was only then that the Shield realized he was backed up against the rocky side of the plateau. There was nowhere for him to go, not that he would want to, as Regis closed the distance between them until their faces were barely an inch apart. Though Clarus was slightly taller than Regis and much more muscular, Clarus felt Regis’ presence as something immense and overpowering.

“My Shield,” Regis repeated and leaned up to kiss Clarus.

Clarus had kissed both men and women before. Everyone kissed differently but a _first_ kiss with someone had always been soft, slow, and tentative, an opportunity to learn that person and gauge how receptive they were to each other.

This first kiss with Regis was none of those things. Regis _claimed_ his mouth with ferocity that made Clarus once again think of Ravatog and made his blood just as hot. He could do nothing but stand there pinned against the rocks while his lips were forced apart by Regis’ and a hot wet tongue dipping into his mouth. Teeth scraped painfully against his lips and their teeth clicked together. It was a sloppy mess of a kiss and Clarus happened to know that it was his Princes first. Clarus wanted to slow down, wanted to guide his charge but found that he was helpless to resist the young man who was now biting and sucking on his lower lip.

While one of Regis’ hands still held tightly to Clarus’ hand, the other without subtlety slipped into the Shields pants and gripped his cock that was already half hard. His grip was not quite tight enough to be painful, thank the Six, but it was tight enough that it was clear that Regis was claiming in as his. Startled by the sudden escalation, Clarus gasped, which made Regis release his lip from his teeth.

“Are you alright, Clarus,” he asked with genuine concern. “Do you...”

Suddenly the passion in the Princes eyes was gone and Clarus’ heart lurched. “Do I what, Regis?”

Their eyes met and Clarus found nothing but love and caring there. “Do you want this?”

“I’ve admired you for a while now, Your Highness.” Even in the dim light, Clarus could tell how Regis’ cheeks reddened at the use of his proper title. “Yes, I want this.”

Regis smiled widely again and Clarus smiled back. His heat swelled with pride for his future King who he himself had helped to train and build into the passionate young man he was. Clarus knew Regis would never have ordered or forced him into a compromising position, even if he could very easily do so, especially with the sudden desire that had fallen over Clarus to bend to the will of his Prince. This fact alone made him want him more.

Regis kissed Clarus again, slower this time but with just as much force and passion. Clarus kissed back with equal fervor, loosing himself in the taste of Regis combined with bad coffee (that Regis would happily drink so Cid didn’t feel bad) The front of his pants grew tight with his growing erection and Regis’ hand taking up more space than was comfortably available, so he reached between their bodies and undid his belt, buttons, and zipper. He shivered when his heated cock met the cool night air and Regis laughed against his mouth.

“A little chilly?”

Clarus smirked. “Not with you around.”

Regis gave Clarus no warning before he pulled down the Shields pants and dropped to his knees in front of him. He licked his lips and was about to take Clarus into his mouth before Clarus stopped him.

“Regis, wait.”

Regis stood and cocked his head. “Something wrong?”

Clarus nodded. He took Regis by the hips and pulled him against him. “My future King shouldn’t be on his knees,” he whispered, lips against Regis’ ear.

Regis laughed. “Fair enough. Are you going to get on yours, then?”

“If His Highness wishes it.”

Not giving Regis time to respond, Clarus knelt in front of the Prince. In contrast to Regis’ haste, Clarus worked slowly with the care royalty deserved. He pushed the black slacks down gently, feeling the smooth skin of Regis’ thighs as he did. Regis’ cock jutted out toward Calrus’ face and the sight of the glistening tip and the scent of his heady musk filled the Shield with reverence and desire. He started with a tentative lick, tasting precum on the tip of his tongue. It was not a particularly pleasant taste of equal parts sweet, salty, and bitter, but Clarus craved more because it was _Regis_. He took the tip between his lips and gave it a gentle suck, earning a moan from Regis. He slid his mouth slowly down the length until his nose was buried in a tuff of black curls.

“Clarus,” Regis said, his voice raspy and breathless. The sound trickled arousal through Clarus’ body all the way down to his cock, which twitched causing Clarus to moan around Regis. Clarus set a steady pace, bobbing his head up and down, playing his tongue along the underside and around the head. Withing minutes Regis’ moans turned to cries and he gripped his hands tightly in Clarus’ hair when Clarus hollowed his cheeks to give extra suction.

“AH! Clarus! Clarus FUCK stop I’m close!”

Clarus released Regis from his mouth and caught his breath.”How does His Highness want to finish?”

Regis caught his breath before answering. “Lay down on your back.”

Clarus complied and laid back. He kicked off his boots so he could fully remove his pants and tossed them all aside. Regis did the same with his own shoes and pants and knelt between Clarus’ legs.

“I didn’t think this through well. We don’t have anything for lubricant.”

Clarus chuckled. “His Highness has a bad habit of rushing in headlong with no plan,” he teased. “We can do this how the men in the ancient court used to. Remember _that_ day in history class?”

Regis laughed nervously and ran his fingers through his hair. “Yeah… that was… awkward.”

“Useful now though, right?”

“Yeah.”

Regis pushed Clarus’ legs together and leaned down to the place where Clarus’ thighes met his ass. He kissed and licked at the tender skin and Clarus let out a contented sigh at the warm pleasant wetness. Regis mus have judged that he had done a good enough job wetting the area, because after about a minute of lavishing attention on the junction of Clarus’ thighs, Regis sat up and lined himself up. He readjusted Clarus’ legs, putting them over his shoulders while still keeping his thighs pressed tightly together.

It was a strange but pleasant sensation for Clarus when Regis slipped his cock between strong muscled thighs that were wet with his saliva. The skin was sensitive there and Clarus felt unexpected waves of pleasure as Regis fucked his thighs.

“Clarus,” Regis moaned, “so good. So smooth. My Shield...”

“Yes, Your Highness. Yours.” Clarus reached down to take his cock in hand, but Regis stopped him.

“No. You’re pleasure’s mine. Put your hands above your head.”

Clarus knew Regis was eager, possessive perhaps. But this display of pure dominance was new. Clarus found it tremendously arousing and complied with his Prince without question. When Regis reached around Clarus’ legs and began stroking, Clarus eyes rolled back and he moand loudly and shamelessly. His pleasure did indeed belong to Regis and he dared not move his hands from where they were, wrists crossed above his head. They were bound with only the bindings of the will of his Prince, as Clarus himself was.

Regis’ pace was without rhythm at first, but after a few minutes he found his cadence and pumped Clarus’ cock in his fist in time with his quickening thrusts. It did not take long for the Prince to cum with a shrill cry of his Shield’s name. Regis’ hot cum dripping down his thighs and onto his balls and the tightened grip on his cock was just what Clarus needed to follow is Prince over the edge.

“Your Highness… Regis!!” he shouted as he came, covering Regis’ hand and his own shirt.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, gazing at each others faces in the dim blue glow while Regis massages Clarus’ trembling legs. But they could not stay at the base of the plateau forever, a fact of which Clarus reluctantly reminded Regis.

“We should head back now before Wes and Cid miss us too much.”

“Oh, Cid can’t wait to get rid of me half the time and Wes probably passed out cold as soon as his head hit the pillow. We’re fine.”

“True about Wes, but we are still out at night and I wouldn’t want us to be caught by deamons, quite literally with our pants down.”

Regis laughed. “That would be difficult to explain to the others,” he admitted and stood.

“Not to mention King Mors,” Clarus added and stood as well, retrieving his pants and shoes. “I can hear it now. ‘Clarus Amicitia,’” Clarus did his best satirical imitation of the King, lowering his voice and taking on the accent of the royal court. “’Would you care to explain to me how you allowed my son to be bitten in his bare posterior by a goblin?’”

Regis laughed and emulated Clarus. “’You had best not be up to any buggery.’”

Clarus finished fastening his belt buckle and turned back to face Regis. “Oh, I wouldn’t mind some more ‘buggery’” he said. “Just maybe somewhere safe next time.”

Regis wrapped his arms around Clarus and pulled him close until their noses touched. “I always feel safe with you. My Shield.”

“And I’ll do my best to make sure you always are,” Clarus promised and kissed Regis deeply. When he pulled away, he smiled. “My Prince.”


End file.
